


We Get Each Other High

by vespergray



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Background Bughead, F/M, Recreational Drug Use, background varchie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-06 12:57:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16833073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vespergray/pseuds/vespergray
Summary: Jughead and Veronica smoke weed together every week. And every week he asks himself why he is doing this. Every week he feels himself getting closer to crossing...that line. Background Bughead/Varchie.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't quit these two. I might write more of this, not sure yet. 
> 
> Veronica loves their classic rock, BTW.

Jughead rolled his eyes as Veronica primly opened a window and turned on a fan. "There is no way that keeps the smell out." 

"Shut up, Jug," she said automatically as she sat back down beside him. "My parents never come in here, but now that we are practically at war with each other, I don't want them knowing about my...recreational activities with you." 

Jug shrugged, leaning up against the side of her bed, stretching his legs out in front of him. The first time Veronica had invited him into her room to smoke, he had felt so awkward and out of place. It was like being in a girly museum. "My dad and I aren't talking, either." 

He frowned, irritated that he was talking about his life with Veronica. He knew it was the weed, but it was almost like they were friends. Almost. He had only come to smoke with her once, against better judgement. He had told himself it was because she was rich and could probably buy the good stuff and Betty wanted him and Veronica to be better friends. 

But he really didn't know why he came. And why he keeps coming back. 

She held out a perfectly manicured hand for the joint. He handed it to her, watching the dark red tips of her nails. She didn't reply and he was thankful for that. Tom Petty played in the background and he closed his eyes, getting lost for a minute. 

The next week he was back and it was REM blaring loudly. Veronica seemed edgy, irritable as she tossed her purse on the bag and threw a lighter in his direction. 

"What's your problem?" he barely caught the lighter as it whizzed by his head. 

"Nothing." she let out a long breath. "Okay, everything. Archie, Reggie, Riverdale, all of it. Just...light the joint." 

He did. There was no talking for a while. Seven songs later, he slid over and awkwardly placed an arm around her. 

She froze a little, then relaxed. Her hair flopped onto his shoulder as she closed her eyes. 

They didn't talk the rest of the day. They just sat there...together. 

A week later, Jughead found himself shaking his head and laughing harder than he had laughed in a long time. 

"Shut up!" she kicked the bottom of his boot with her shiny black heel. "You're being loud and all I need is for my mom to burst in here and ask why this room smells like Woodstock. Plus, she's not the biggest fan of your dad so I'm sure she would be thrilled your my bedroom partner." 

Jughead coughed, hard. "Um, could we not call me your bed partner?"

"Bedroom partner." she repeated, waving her hand. 

"Not any better. We aren't partners of any kind except like...smoke buddies." 

She grinned. "Being my bed partner freaks you out?" 

Her voice was teasing, but the glint in her eye made him nervous. And his throat felt inexplicably dry all of a sudden. "No way." 

"Jug, I would probably blow your mind." 

His mind was still reeling from that comment when she continued, "But I'm done with men." 

"So, you're...moving onto women?" 

"No," she kicked him again. "And you sounded way more excited about that than you should be, fyi." 

He groaned. "Vero, you're the one who just said you're done with men." 

"I'm going to be alone for a while. I really like my vibrator. I'll be fine." 

The mental image made him flush and he really really hoped she didn't notice. "Your vibrator isn't a person. That's not a relationship." 

"I don't have to tell it what to do." she shrugged, blowing out a long puff of smoke. "It knows me. It's great." 

He just got up and switched records on her record player, searching through her collection for something very un-sexy. His brain was going places he didn't want it to. 

And the next week, when he stayed until midnight and they argued over classic novels, he told himself it was all still okay. Still platonic. Even when they ended up dancing for a half hour to Fleetwood Mac. When he crept out of her house and to his motorcycle hidden a block away, he felt a moment of clarity. 

He knew he was feeling things for her he shouldn't. He liked the way she tangled her legs in his as they talked. He liked her mind...oh God, how much he liked her mind. She was so smart and loved books and movies. And good music and social issues. He had leaned in to kiss her goodbye before he left before he stopped himself. 

It was like he had two girlfriends. Sweet, cute, perky Betty and then his Princess of Darkness, Veronica. They were getting too close. He knew he needed to end it. But he couldn't. Every look they shared made him sink deeper. 

And he didn't know that Veronica was upstairs in her shower, head pressed against the wall, crying. Because there was something in Jug she wanted. Something she needed. And she couldn't have him. 

But he went back next week. He didn't notice the extra tight dress she wore, or the shoes that tied up her leg. All he saw were her eyes and her half smile as she dropped down into his lap. "Hi," she grinned. "Want to get high with me?" 

"Yes," he exhaled.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and reviews! Please let me know what you think of this chapter. I thought I would try something new this chapter and write it from Veronica's POV.

Veronica's point of view- 

It has to be the weed. Has to be. 

There is no way that I have a thing for Jughead. A thing. A crush. Lustful endeavor. Infatuation. 

No way, no way, no way. 

It's just the weed making me THINK that I do. 

We've been hanging out for two months, each week, and it's like each week the drugs hit me stronger. I'm beginning to think the guy I buy from is lacing it with something. 

It's so strong that last week I cried. Seriously cried. Gasping and weeping in the shower. And it wasn't about Archie, or Reggie, or my issues with my parents. 

Nope. It was because I wanted to kiss Jughead and I knew it was wrong. He and Betty are endgame after all, and the person I thought I would spend forever with is now with someone else. And the guy I started banging in the meantime to make losing Archie hurt less (Reggie) isn't really anything more than a cute, silly distraction. 

It's all distractions, all smoke and mirrors, all a stupid game. Reggie, the weed, buying things I don't need. It's all just an escape from the hurt and it doesn't really work. 

I'm not sure when I started liking Jughead. Maybe it was his willingness to come smoke with me even though I was just joking when I suggested it. Maybe it's the way I see him look at Betty. Maybe it is his admittedly fantastic taste in music. Maybe it's the whole 'two smart people coming together' thing. 

I'm not sure when I crossed to the dark side, but I did. I put on false eyelashes and a very tight dress. I chose lipstick as dark as my guilty soul and let Reggie think I dressed that way for him all day. 

But after school, Jughead and I snuck into my room and he closed the door behind us. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I hated the gorgeous, immoral girl I saw looking back at me. I turned away from the mirror and decided to seal my fate. Sin was going to become my middle name. 

I slid into his lap and draped one arm around his shoulder, my legs resting on top of his. "Want to get high with me?" 

His eyes were confused and I could see the hesitation there. "Yes," he breathed, so close to my lips. 

I smiled a tiny half smile as I held the joint out to him. I didn't move off of him, but I could almost feel both of our hearts pounding. He didn't break my gaze and I was surprised. I expected more resolve from the love of Betty's life. 

"Who is this?" 

His question stumped me for a second, and then realized he meant the music. "The Doors." 

His eyes swung back to mine and I started to slide away, back to my own seat on the soft carpet. 

I'm not sure who leaned forward first. I've replayed it a million times. I don't know. All I know is his lips were soft but his kiss was hard. He kissed like he meant it, and I liked that, because that's how I kiss. My tongue was in his mouth and his hands were in my hair. And it was all so new and good. 

A few minutes later we pulled away and I licked my lips, taking a long drag on the joint. I watched him stand up, nervously running a hand through his hair. I blew smoke out slowly, keeping my face still and unreadable. I knew he was leaving and why. 

"I gotta go." All I could focus on was that Serpent jacket, the way the snake seemed to be moving against his back. 

Maybe in the end, we are both just cold blooded snakes. 

I nodded as he opened the door started out. "The Doors always get to me," he murmured as he shut the door behind himself with a thud. 

I leaned my head back against the side of my bed, finishing my joint. "Me, too." 

I knew I had smoked too much because my head was swimming and everything felt numb, but in a good way. I let the record player play over and over and laid down, fully clothed, under a fluffy white blanket on my bed. I floated in and out of sleep, waking one time to hear my phone chime. 

I rubbed one hand across my mascara laden eyes and peered at the text. From Jughead. 

"I'll be back next week." 

There was no more saving my soul. I bit my lip, let my head fall back on the bed, the warmth spreading from my head to my toes. I smiled slowly. 

Why am I hurting myself? Why am I trading one heartbreak for another?


End file.
